Like You
by chasing.airplanes
Summary: Charles Hoyt may finally encounter a formidable opponent who isn't Jane Rizzoli.
1. Prequel

*A/N: This is my first attempt at a Rizzoli/Isles fiction. I know this is really short, but it is only the prelude to my story. I hope that you enjoy this little bit of writing and I plan to have more up within the week. As a note, this is my interpretation of one particular scene in Season 1 Episode 8. I do not own anything Rizzoli & Isles related although, it would be interesting if I did. Thank you for reading, I hope that you enjoy.

Like You

Prelude

"You're clearly trying to frighten me." Maura Isles noted as she spoke to Hoyt as though he were a child being reprimanded for playing too rough with the other children.

"I am." Hoyt confessed with a satisfied grin and an exaggerated nod of his head.

Maura had seen first-hand the types of things that satisfied Charles Hoyt. She had examined one of his victims earlier that day, but now she couldn't picture anyone other than Jane Rizzoli. She saw the tears that threatened to fall from the detective's face, felt her trembling body each time she touched her, and sensed the fear and shame Jane felt every time she examined the ever present scars on her hands. Maura could feel the anger that she had spoken to Hoyt about earlier rising up within her. Jane was terrified of this man that sat before her; he was the monster that plagued her nightmares, the demon she couldn't escape. Feeling the last bit of self-restraint slipping, Maura allowed herself to lean forward onto the wooden table before her.

"I'm not afraid of you." She refused to break eye contact, the challenge evident in her voice.

If Hoyt wanted a worthy opponent, as he had called it, Maura would rise to the occasion. She knew the ins and outs of his case almost as well as Jane, but she also possessed a unique understanding of his thoughts. Where fear of Hoyt's unpredictability had paralyzed Jane, Maura would triumph. She refused to let Jane fall prey to this monster any longer, not if she could do anything to stop it.

Hoyt leaned forward, as if to meet her challenge, as his eyes became level with her own gaze.

"I know," His raspy voice confided in a barely audible whisper, "because you're like me."

Maura instantly became confused by his statement. How were they alike, she pondered. As she mentally ran over the case file in her head, she began to notice a large number of indicators that were similar to her own past. As the number grew increasingly larger, Maura could feel the previous confidence slipping from her form as a new found fear rose from within. It wasn't Hoyt that scared her; it was the possibility that she could be anything like him. Could she really be so similar to the man that Jane feared the most?

Maura sat motionless as Hoyt leaned back in his chair, his eyes never breaking their contact. She saw it in his facial expression; he was telling the truth.


	2. Chapter 1

*A/N: Chapter One is up! I hope that you enjoy it!*

Like You

Chapter One

The humid afternoon air found Dr. Isles alone in her recently re-decorated office. Leaning back into the comfort of her office chair, she scanned the room all the while making a mental map. As her eyes came across the painting that her mother had donated to the remodel, she felt a smile grow on her lips. She mused at the thought of informing Detective Korsak that the opening bid for the painting would be around forty thousand dollars.

Maura had made a promise to herself before accepting the medical examiner position with the Boston Police Department that she would do as much as possible to avoid placing her wealth on display. Therefore, she waited until the office was practically in shambles to place a request for new furniture. In the confines of the Police Commissioner's office, she had offered to cover the costs for an entire remodel. He had agreed and adhered to her wishes that it be kept a private matter between the two of them. She knew that the Commissioner had kept his word when she overheard angered whispers from officers within the department complaining about how much her office remodel was costing the BPD. While the words stung, she refused to contradict the statements knowing that it would only result in more conflict.

Over the years, she had endured many insults, both behind her back and to her face, regarding her economical standing. Even the homicide detectives whom she worked closely with occasionally felt the need to point out the difference in lifestyles when clashing interests arose. Detective Jane Rizzoli held the record for most painful insult, but she also held the record for being the first in the entire department to apologize for her hurtful comments. In the confines of her office, the blonde allowed herself to think back to that particular night.

* * *

After three bottles of Jane's favorite beer, Maura still found herself wanting more of the deliciously intoxicating beverage. She raised her hand as an indication for the bartender to bring another bottle over.

"Okay, you win!" Maura admitted diplomatically.

"I win what?" Jane asked in the confused tone that she reserved for Maura specifically.

"I love this beer. You said that I would, and you were indeed correct. Therefore, you win." Maura explained as a waiter sat down the fourth beer.

As if to indicate the truth in her words, Maura grabbed the chilled bottle and lifted the opening to her lips. Tipping the bottle, Maura allowed herself to consume as much of the bottle as possible without choking.

"Woah! Slow down there, I can't have you passing out here. It wouldn't be good for business." Jane chided from across the table.

Taking another swig, Maura simply smiled at her friend's endearing concern.

"Plus, imagine all of the _chloroform bacteria_ that would be crawling all over you." Jane added in an attempt to mimic one of the medical examiner's earlier comments about inhabiting a bar.

Maura couldn't help the light-hearted giggle that escaped her lips.

"You mean the _Coliform bacteria_, Jane. That particular bacteria can be found in soda fountains and therefore, not relevant to this situation." Maura reasoned even though her speech was slightly slurred.

"Okay, Medical Examiner Isles," Jane teased as she emphasized Maura's professional title, "I think it's time that we get you home."

"Can't I at least finish this bottle? It's _really_ good, Jane!" Maura whined as she attempted to reason with the brunette.

As per usual, Maura found her efforts proven futile as the detective stood and offered a hand.

"Come on, Maura. If you're really good, I'll let you stay at my place tonight." Jane spoke as though she were talking a kid into eating their broccoli.

Glancing between Jane and the beer, Maura attempted to weigh her options. She could continue to drink the sweet beverage in front of her, or she could accompany Jane back to her apartment where Jo Friday and Bass were having a play date.

"This is a tough decision." Maura noted out loud as she continued to glance between the two options.

"I'll let you sleep in my bed." Jane enticed in her best sing-song voice.

Taking the outstretched hand, Maura made her final decision.

"You always let me share your bed." Maura noted as she walked away from Jane.

When they arrived at Jane's apartment, Maura stumbled through the hallway and into Jane's bedroom. Finding the awaiting bed, Maura threw herself forward into its outstretched arms and reveled in the feel of the cotton sheets. While the thread count of Jane's sheets was clearly less than she was accustomed to, she had begun take comfort in lying upon them.

"I'm never letting you near a beer again, Maura." Jane firmly stated from her position in the door way.

Ignoring her words, Maura mused, "If alcohol is supposed to be a depressant, why do I feel so alive right now?"

"Because you are tipsy." A clearly amused Jane explained.

"Tipsy." Maura tossed the word around before deciding that it was insulting to her current state.

As Jane began the process of picking out a t-shirt to sleep in, Maura rolled over onto her elbows in an attempt to better convey her sentiments on the word tipsy.

"Jane, I am by no means tipsy. I am inebriated, under the influence, or intoxicated. How dare you call me such a horrid word. I do not tip over like the tea pot in a pre-school song." Maura stated triumphantly.

Maura's triumph was met with a t-shirt being hurled at her face.

"Okay, tea pot. Can you please get undressed so that I can get some sleep?" A whining voice complained.

Wanting to see the woman attached to the voice, Maura removed the offending item of clothing from its current position covering her eyes. With the shirt firmly in her hand, Maura found a slightly undressed Jane in her line of sight. As her eyes traced Jane's slender form, Maura realized that Jane was missing a shirt.

"Jane, you aren't wearing a shirt." Maura stated as her voice rose to a squeak.

"I'm changing," Jane defended, "If you don't like it, don't look."

"I think that if I looked, you wouldn't be _sleeping_ in your bed tonight." Maura drawled despite a small sector in her brain warning against such a response.

"What?" Jane asked once the t-shirt she had chosen was over her head.

Pausing, Maura allowed herself to replay the words in her head. She had not just said that to Jane, had she? The blush making its way to her cheeks told her that she had indeed spoken the sentiments out loud.

"I am changing." Maura blatantly avoided the question knowing that any attempt at a lie would result in hyperventilation.

Once the lights were off, Maura found herself settled comfortably next to Jane. The sound of light traffic could be noted outside and the city lights made their way in through cracks in the blinds.

"Maura?" A hesitant voice broke the silence.

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry about what I said earlier." Jane's softened voice explained.

"You said you were sorry earlier. Let's forget about it." Maura suggested.

Truthfully, Maura was still hurt by the earlier insults that Jane had thrown her way. Sure, she had been the butt of many rich girl jokes, but no one had managed to hurt in such a manner as Jane had. She could still hear Jane's angered voice claiming that she didn't know her anymore and that she was one of _them_. The detective had said the word with such vehemence that Maura could still feel the bite.

"No, I don't want to forget about it. I know that my words hurt you." A hand came to rest gently against Maura's shoulder.

"It's not like I haven't heard things like that before, Jane." Maura regretted speaking when the sadness in her voice became obvious.

"That's my point, Maura. You shouldn't have to hear those things." The hand slid lower onto her bicep before giving a comforting squeeze.

"Especially not from me." Jane chastised herself.

"I know you are sorry, Jane." Maura stated in an attempt to assure the woman beside her that things were not permanently damaged between them.

"I have never cared about how much money you have; I just said the thing that I thought would hurt the most." Jane attempted to explain further despite Maura's desire to end the conversation.

"Well, you came pretty darn close." Maura managed.

"My point is that I shouldn't have said those things to you even when I was upset. I didn't mean them and I will never mean them. When I see you, I don't see Medical Examiner Isles or trust fund baby Isles. When I look at you, I see Maura Isles, my best friend." Maura could hear Jane's voice crack as she spoke the final sentence.

"I'm not your friend anymore." Maura whispered.

"What?" Jane shot up in the bed and fumbled for a light.

When light illuminated the room, Jane's fearful eyes found Maura's awaiting gaze. Reaching out, Maura took hold of Jane's tensed hand.

"That's the thing that would have hurt the most." Maura explained as she wrapped Jane's hands within her own.

A sigh of relief escaped Jane's lips before she pulled Maura forward into a tight embrace.

"I'm so sorry." The detective repeated.

"I forgive you." Maura promised.

She knew that she would forgive Jane for almost anything.

A loud beeping noise broke Maura out of her memory. One of the computers in the morgue began to alert all nearby that a scan had been completed. It would more than likely be the results detailing how long James Stern had been frozen. Standing up, she thanked whatever being that was responsible for bringing the tall brunette into her life. If it hadn't been for that being, Maura reasoned, she wouldn't have fallen in love with Jane Rizzoli.


	3. Chapter 2

*A/N: I am sorry this chapter took so long to post, you fantastic readers. My sister had surgery earlier this week and I had to spend a majority of my time taking care of her. I hope that you enjoy my latest installment!

Like You

Chapter Two

Detective Jane Rizzoli fumbled with her keys before dropping them onto the paved walkway. She could feel the growl of frustration vibrate against her throat at her the recent string of bad luck. Sighing, she reached for the keys before making her way up to the door a few feet way. As she placed the key in its rightful position, she noted the lack of light from within. As the door opened before her, she confirmed her theory.

"Maura?" She called into the seemingly abandoned house.

When met with no response, Jane peered through the glass door of the kitchen. She found that her mother's guest house was also enveloped in darkness aside from the lone outside lamp that Maura had installed for Angela's safety when coming home from a late shift at the diner. As she turned to leave, Jane heard a muffled voice from within. From the sound of things, someone was really upset. As she entered the residence, Jane noted that Maura's purse and keys were sitting on the kitchen counter along with her phone.

"That explains why you didn't answer my call." Jane mused as she closed and locked the heavy wooden door behind her.

As Jane made her way into the kitchen, a crash sounded from the direction of Maura's bedroom. Swiftly making her way towards the room, Jane unclasped her holster. With one hand firmly on the firearm that still rested against her side, Jane leaned against the door frame leading to Maura's bedroom. She tensed as she listened to the conversation from within. A male voice shouted above an obviously upset woman's crying. He made claims that no man had a right to, claims of ownership. Jane felt the anger rise within at the thought of anyone trying to own Maura Isles. When she heard what appeared to be a fierce slap, Jane shoved open the door with one hand while her other hand pulled out the Glock 23 that it had been resting on.

"Let her go!" Jane shouted as she entered the dimly lit room.

A surprised shriek came from Maura Isles as she jumped up from a sitting position on her bed.

Taking a moment to assess the situation, Jane took a step back in embarrassment. From a brief surveillance of the darkened room, Jane could note an argument waging from the fifty-two inch flat panel television that hung against the left-hand wall.

"Jane?" A slightly fearful Maura questioned.

As she quickly returned her firearm to its holster, Jane stood straight and fumbled for the words to explain.

"I heard a voice." She tried.

"A voice?" Maura's fear turned to concern.

"No, not like a crazy voice," Jane reasoned as her frustration rose, "I heard fighting and I thought you may be hurt. So I came in."

"Oh!" Jane winced when Maura's utterance of understanding finally came.

Reaching for a remote, Maura paused the film that she had been watching.

"Can you turn on the light, please?" Maura asked not daring to move just quite yet.

With the room now illuminated in light, Jane felt even more ridiculous. Here she stood, in Maura's bedroom, before her best friend after terrifying her at gun point.

"Just when I thought tonight couldn't get any worse. I'm really sorry, Maura." Jane apologized even though it sounded more like a deflated whimper.

"Oh, what's a little gun play between friends?" Maura tried once her heart stopped racing.

"Maura, this isn't a joke. I could have shot you." Jane was concerned about Maura's blatant disregard for the severity of the situation.

"Jane, you have been in law enforcement for more than ten years. I think that I can trust you not to enter a residence and fire at the first thing that moves. Now, sit down, you look like you just shot someone." Maura grinned as she patted the bed behind her before taking a seat.

"That is not funny." Grimacing, the detective made her way to the bed and took a seat beside her friend.

"Okay. Now, tell me." Maura coached as though she were a psychiatrist.

"Tell you what?" Annoyance was a Rizzoli trait that Maura had become accustomed to receiving when Jane was upset or in a stressful situation.

"What happened with Special Agent Dean?" Feigning a suggestive tone, Maura knew Jane had called it off Special Agent Dean.

"We kissed. I told him that I wasn't ready to be in a relationship with him. He left." Jane summarized as though she were writing up a police report.

Jane was aware of her ability to detach herself from situations that caused her discomfort. Now, she could feel it in the way she spoke of Dean. She was comforted by the fact that Maura seemed to understand her emotions even when she failed to convey them openly. At the thought, Jane felt a calm begin to settle around her and a slight smile threaten to spread across her face. Spending time with Maura after a stressful day always seemed to provide comforting and relaxing escape.

"Well, there has to be something good about the situation. Your zygomatic major and orbicularis oculi muscles are involuntarily contracting." Maura pointed out as studied the contracting muscles around Jane's jaw and cheek bones.

"What?" Even with the annoyance at having to ask for a definition, Jane welcomed the conversation.

"A smile, Jane, you are smiling. However, the orbicularis oculi only contracts when the smile is involuntary and thus genuine. Therefore, something has made you genuinely happy. Do tell what it is, my friend. " Maura attempted to support Jane by rubbing small circles into the detective's slumping back.

"I don't know why my obscure spatula is moving." Jane lied.

"Orbicularis oculi, Jane. " Maura corrected all the while stopping the movement of her hands.

'You say tomato, I say tomato." Jane whined against the sudden feel of Maura's hand leaving its position on her back.

"If you aren't going to tell me, will you watch this movie with me? I was getting into it." Without waiting for a response, Maura made her way to the door where she closed it and turned off the lights.

Once again Jane found herself in a darkened room with Maura. At least, I am not pointing a gun at her, Jane thought. Standing up, she took a moment to take off her shoes, place her gun and badge on the nightstand beside the bed, and settle comfortable into a laying position on the bed.

"What are we watching?" Jane finally asked once she was in a position to comfortably watch the television.

"The Lucky One." Maura stated as though it explained everything.

"What," Jane paused at the feel of Maura's arm sliding against her own when the blonde settled in beside her, "What is that?"

"It is a Nicholas Sparks film. Sometimes I wonder if you know anything about modern culture." Maura half-heartedly complained.

As the film began, Jane allowed herself to slip into the light banter that she and Maura shared when watching movies. While Maura normally interrupted films with small bits of information about the many falsities presented on film, Jane had found that romantic movies resulted in Maura simply observing and making what Jane jokingly called normal people talk.

"I was smiling because I am glad that you are my best friend." Jane admitted finally.

When a response from the doctor wasn't forthcoming, Jane glanced over to find a sleeping Maura curled up against her side. In the glow of the television light, Jane found that a peaceful smile played lightly on Maura's lips. With a huge grin, Jane closed her own eyes and settled herself closer to the warmth of Maura's sleeping form.

Tomorrow, she would give Maura a hard time about falling asleep during a romantic movie. She'd probably ask if the doctor found romance boring and suggest that it was the reason for her lack of interest in relationships as of late. Tonight, however, she was content to enjoy the comfort of having her best friend sleeping safely beside her. Tonight, like all the other nights she spent with Maura, she would sleep without fear of Charles Hoyt.


	4. Chapter 3

*A/N: This is a little something that I simply couldn't wait to share with you fantastic readers! It's short, but I am really happy with the way that it turned out. I hope that you enjoy it as much as I do.

Like You

Chapter 3

Dr. Maura Isles wasn't accustomed to the feel of rough cement blocks against her skin nor was she accustomed to the feel of the slick metal of the semi-automatic pistol encased in her grip. In general, Maura Isles was simply not accustomed to anything involving weapons. She had taken a few self-defense classes at Jane's request and she was currently enrolled in a weekly kick-boxing course. Aside from the practiced techniques of those classes and a can of pepper spray discretely hidden within her Hilde Palladino handbag, Maura lacked any sufficient form of self-defense.

Despite the fear of handguns, Maura had ventured beyond her comfort zone and made a trip to the BPD's outdoor shooting range on the outskirts of Boston. She hadn't wanted to risk a run-in with any of the members of the Homicide Division, especially Jane Rizzoli. While she was sure her best friend would have been more than willing to teach her how to properly operate the firearm that she now held, Maura didn't want to face admitting to the purpose behind her recent interest in firearms. More specifically, she didn't want to admit to Jane that fear was the driving force behind her purchase of the Glock 23 that she now possessed.

Standing in the optimum shooting position as the firearms safety instructor had demonstrated, Maura raised the pistol from the cement table in front of her and steadied her shaking arms. Once confident in her position, the blonde lined up the front and rear sites until the desired location was centered. With one shallow breath, she moved her index finger from its awaiting position alongside the barrel to its active position on the trigger.

Through the sites, she could see Hoyt's face taunting her. She could hear him laughing at her failure. With as much force as possible, she pulled the trigger. As the laughing continued, she found herself pulling down the trigger repeatedly until the familiar click of an empty magazine could be heard. As she forced her shaking hands to place the Glock on the table, she inhaled deeply in hopes of balancing her breathing. Finally, she walked the twelve feet to the target to evaluate her shooting.

She found a tight-knit grouping of bullet holes covering the area where the human heart would be located. She could hear Hoyt's breath catch in a sharp gasp as he fought for oxygen. She could see the muscles in this throat moving at optimal speed to suck in whatever bit of air possible. Maura heard the defeated groan before a softened exhale as Hoyt released the last breath that he would ever take.

Dr. Maura Isles blanched at the terrifyingly soothing sense of satisfaction that she now felt. With uneven breaths and a shaking body, she packed up her firearm, took down the target, and prepared to leave. For the hundredth time she pictured the broken expression that her best friend held for months after an encounter with Charles Hoyt. She remembered how tight Jane had clung to her during those nights when they had shared a bed. She could almost feel the Jane's tense muscles relax when she wrapped her arms around the detectives sleeping form.

Decidedly, Maura folded the target and stuffed it into the case with her pistol as a trophy.

Maybe it took being like Hoyt to keep Jane safe.


	5. Chapter 4

A/N: Hi everyone! This is the latest installment. I hope that you enjoy reading it! I had a little trouble writing certain parts of this chapter, so please let me know what you think.

Chapter 4: These Four Walls

The brush of callused hands against heated flesh felt ever so enticing, but Maura could tell that it wasn't going to happen. The hands that caressed her thighs so gently, almost patiently, weren't those of someone she would want to be with. They weren't comforting or familiar; they were that of a stranger, a very mindful stranger, but a stranger none the less. Placing a hand upon the rising arm of her almost lover, Maura took a step back until she could feel the calming cool of the glass divider against the exposed skin of her back.

"I'm sorry, James. I don't think this is going to happen." With little regret, she managed to look him in the eyes.

"No, it's okay. I get it, Maura. Whoever you are trying to forget must be one hell of a man." James stumbled over his words as he buttoned his plaid shirt.

It was obvious that rejection was a new concept for him.

"It really is me, you know. If it hadn't been for J—" Maura paused before correcting herself, "If it haven't been for someone else, I would have been all over you."

She tried to express her sincerity by brushing her hand along his forearm, but only found that the contact caused him to pull further away.

"I should leave." James mumbled despite the fact that his hand was already on the door knob exiting her office.

With the solitary click of the door resounding throughout the room, Maura released the weighted sigh that she had been holding back. Here she sat alone in her office again. It was another Friday night that she would spend alone. Jane was out working a case in the middle of backwoods Boston and the only form of communication that she had received from the preoccupied detective all day had been a text detailing the smells that Korsak's car apparently emitted. She had planned to spend a majority of the night refreshing her memory on older case files that she would no doubt be called to testify about in the near future, but when James, the new intern from Luxe's Funeral Services, came by to pick up a natural cause case, she couldn't help but flirt with the charmingly handsome specimen that had walked into her office.

Now that all was said and done, Maura decided to return to her notes in an attempt to salvage what was left of the productive evening that she had planned. The notes in front of her detailed the fractures along the temporal bone which appeared to be consistent with contact from a cylindrical object. Tests had confirmed that a galvanized iron pipe ranging three to four inches in diameter had been used. Maura found that she could recall little from this case due to the ease of examination. The pipe used to bludgeon the victim to death had been corroded over a short time of usage, thus, when contact was made with the temporal bone, small flakes of corroded piping attached to the remaining fragments of bone. It had taken less than three hours to conduct the examination and less than two days to catch the killer thanks to Jane's prowess.

A loud clang that had echoed from the examination room managed to catch the medical examiner's attention. Maura couldn't recall if the lights in the morgue were off when James had left her office and that lack of knowledge caused a slight tension to creep into her spinal column forcing her to sit up that much straighter. Through the darkness, she could almost swear that she saw something move in the shadows of the morgue. The clanging of the bay door attempting to open sounded throughout the desolate halls until Maura could almost feel the tugging of the metal wires as they pulled harshly against the doors. With logic still being an Isles' constant, Maura checked her phone in hopes of finding a missed call about a body being brought in. To her dissatisfaction, there was nothing. As fear began to override her previous logic, she caught a glimpse of movement yet again.

Without thought, the blonde reached for the lamp nearby and turned it off. Once certain that the darkness had obscured her from sight, she lowered herself onto the granite floor. Maura could feel her hands shaking as she reached behind her to quietly remove her heels before she crawled the expanse of her office until she was hidden behind her desk. Thoughts of Paddy Doyle snatching her from the loading bay echoed in her mind as she reached for her purse. She could feel the rough hands of Paddy's henchman as he pushed harder against her mouth to prevent anything other than a muffled scream from escaping. As she rummaged through the contents of her purse, she fought to stay silent against the rising fear she felt seeping into her from every pore.

When her hands finally settled on the jagged, plastic latch she had been searching for, she felt a small breathe release. As she slowly pushed against the edges of the latch, she braced herself for the noise. Once open, Maura grasped onto the grip of the gun and pulled it swiftly out of its casing. The creaking of the door caused all of the previous training she had endured to disappear from her memory and she found herself hiding under the desk clasping tightly to the gun that she had been so eager to retrieve. As the overhead light illuminated the room, she knew for sure that she had been caught. The thud of shoes gaining ground on her position caused a muffled whine to escape from closed lips. She knew that something had to be done. Forcing herself into action, Maura slid out of her hiding spot and swiftly angled her firearm at the intruder.

"Don't—" An exasperated scream escaped her mouth before she felt her entire body go numb.

"Jane."


End file.
